


Not Dead Yet

by Nishloo



Series: mcyt fictlets [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: fair amount of crying, mostly fluff and slight angst, patching up wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nishloo/pseuds/Nishloo
Summary: “Tommy?”He’s only brought out of his thoughts when the same boy speaks his name with hesitance, Tommy lifting his gaze to see Tubbo staring at him with the same concerned look he had moments before. He’s backed off from Tommy now, holding a bloodied rag in his hands. Tommy lifts a hand to his face, running his fingers over the newly cleaned wounds. They still sting beneath his touch, but they’ll heal, along with the bruising he can feel around his right eye.“How… how do you feel?”or, Tommy realizes how much his friend means to him
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: mcyt fictlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986523
Comments: 8
Kudos: 226





	Not Dead Yet

Tender, pale fingers caress smooth skin, fingertips brushing over bruised skin causing Tommy to flinch. The contact on his skin is fleeting but painful nonetheless, his gaze moving up to meet one of saxe blue that stares back at him with nervous concern. A quiet ‘sorry’ escapes the boy in front of him as the same soft touch returns to Tommy’s face, his friend holds a small rag to his cheek as he dabs away drying blood. 

His face stings under the touch of the damp rag, his eyes dropping to the cave floor below them. He can feel the others hands tremble as he continues to fix what damage that was done to Tommy just minutes before- rough hands thrown against his face by a man twice his height, twice his experience. A man with a mask of waxen bone, who fought countless battles before, who Tommy knows he never could have beaten. But he had done so anyway, out of anger, anger for the fellow injured boy that watched on with brimming tears. 

“Tommy?”

He’s only brought out of his thoughts when the same boy speaks his name with hesitance, Tommy lifting his gaze to see Tubbo staring at him with the same concerned look he had moments before. He’s backed off from Tommy now, holding a bloodied rag in his hands. Tommy lifts a hand to his face, running his fingers over the newly cleaned wounds. They still sting beneath his touch, but they’ll heal, along with the bruising he can feel around his right eye. 

“How… how do you feel?” 

There’s a hopeful tone to Tubbo’s voice when he speaks again, and he tries to wear a small smile, ever the optimist. All Tommy can do for the moment is stare at him, his cerulean gaze likely portraying many unspoken emotions as he does. In truth, Tubbo doesn’t look any better off than Tommy feels, the others clothing in tatters and stained with his blood. His wounds have long been taken care of, Niki’s gentle touch helping in tend to the wounds Tubbo received at the hands of the blood thirsty anarchist. 

Tommy’s hands form fists at his sides, the events of the festival playing clearly in his mind. He can almost feel Wilbur’s suffocating hold on him as he watches his friend get shot by someone he thought he could trust. His heart pounds fiercely in his chest and in one quick motion he stands, taking the few steps forwards until his arms wrap around the other male in front of him. 

He can feel the other stiffen under his touch, but that only makes Tommy hug him tighter. He can both feel and hear Tubbo take in a shaky breath, his body trembling within Tommy’s hold as his own arms wrap around the small of Tommy’s waist. He can feel Tubbo bury his face in the crook of his neck, and after a few silent moments, can feel an ephemeral ghosting of tears wetting the side of his neck. 

He’s unsure if it’s the haziness of his gaze or the pooling of tears in his own oceanic hues, but he grits his teeth nonetheless as the grey walls of the ravine grow into a hazy blur as he stares. The smallers form quakes in his hold, and Tommy is fueled with a deep rooting anger and deafening waves of sadness. He could have lost Tubbo today, gone in a boisterous showmanship of colorful fireworks. Many were injured today when Techno lost himself, and Tubbo was the first to greet death before he came crashing back down to the living. 

“Wilbur told me you were gone,” Tommy starts in a hollow tone, voice wavering, “and I screamed. I watched it happen and I thought… I thought-” 

He can’t finish his words, gritting his teeth as tears fall down his bruised cheeks, and he can feel Tubbo tighten his hold on Tommy as though one of them may disappear if they let go. Tommy shares the same sentiment, and he moves his gaze from the ravine walls and instead to the head of dirty blonde hair in the side of his vision. 

“I don’t want to die.” Tubbo’s voice is but a fragment of what he used to be, tone timid and wavering just as much as his small body is. It breaks Tommy’s heart to witness and he stops himself from breaking into sobs in this very moment.

He sucks in a sharp inhale of breath, slowly disentangling himself from the other. But he keeps Tubbo close yet, hands resting on Tubbo’s shoulders now as he fixes his teary gaze on the others. Tubbo’s eyes are red, skin puffy, and face tinted red from the amount of crying he’s done since the festival. Tommy’s gaze wanders over Tubbo’s face, internally grimacing at each scar or burn he comes across on the others innocent expression. 

He’s not going to let something like this happen again, especially not to Tubbo. He would lay his own life out for him before ever seeing Tubbo injured this badly again. He feels hollow as he replays the memory of their so called ‘savior’ raise such a dangerous weapon in the face of a terrified teen. 

“I’m going to protect you, Tubbo, from everyone. They’ll have to kill me if they want to lay a finger on you.” 

Tommy’s fingers clench ever so slightly on the others shoulders as he speaks. He speaks so freely, alone in this secluded part of the ravine, away from prying ears of those they know they can’t trust any longer. 

“Screw this war,” he starts again, enrapturing Tubbo’s shocked gaze, “hell, screw my discs.” That earns a slight gasp from his friend, who knows well enough that the music discs in question are things that Tommy would fight tooth and nail for. “ _You’re_ the most important thing in my life, and I’m not letting anyone take you away from me. Not again.” 

There it is, his true thoughts and emotions, as Tubbo is his best friend and he knows that he can’t function without him. If Tubbo were to die, Tommy doesn’t know what he would do other than throw himself at those who took him away from him. Tubbo is his lifeline, especially now that he’s the only real person he can trust any longer. 

“Tommy-” 

Tubbo’s voice wavers, and his face breaks into a stream of tears as he once again throws himself to Tommy, embrace tight and anchoring as uncontrollable sobbing comes from the smaller form. 

Tommy will be _damned_ if anyone tries to hurt him again.

**Author's Note:**

> their friendship is the purest thing on the smp and no I don't take criticism c:


End file.
